Untangling Destiny
by 1983Sarah
Summary: Set after Season Five, Episode Five - The Disir. What happens next, with Mordred continuing as a threat to Arthur's life and Merlin ever obsessed with protecting him and Camelot. Magic is revealed in an unlikely and terrifying way and destiny itself is threatened. Can Merlin save Arthur and Albion? Read to find out...


**A/N: This is my first Merlin story, which I felt compelled to write after various discussions with fans, reading of fanfics, and of course, the episode "The Disir". Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just playing with some plot bunnies in the garden. **

**Spolier: Season Five, Episode Five - AU as to what might unfold as the season ends. Follows canon as best as I can remember. Enjoy.**

_Untangling Destiny _

Merlin felt like a shell of himself, despite what Gaius had said, that he had done what he thought was best, that he mustn't blame himself. He'd assumed wrong. It was his fault.

Arthur asked him, HIM, what he would do in his place. It pained him beyond belief; he couldn't think straight. He tried to avoid it, step around the issue, let Arthur make the call, but Arthur persisted. He was making the best opening in the world for Merlin to finally tell him everything, finally say the words that he'd been so desperate to speak for many years now, the words 'I have magic'. What should he do? WHAT COULD HE DO? He didn't want Arthur blackmailed into accepting magic…but Arthur himself was considering the idea that magic wasn't all evil. He couldn't let Arthur die at the hands of Mordred - wouldn't. He didn't want to be a murderer, or condemn a man to die, but Camelot MUST be protected. His eyes filled with tears and he shook back the words he wanted to say. He sighed, grappling with his choices for one final second before taking a deep breath and leaning in, forcing his voice to stay calm while holding back his tears. Arthur focused on him intently and as Merlin spoke the words, "There can be no place for magic in Camelot." He felt himself die a little, denying everything he was for the sake of his love for Arthur and Camelot - for the sake of his friends. The fire slowly died as the two men sat, waiting for the morning to come and the horrible sacrifice they would make.

That morning he had faced the Disir with grim determination and listened to the King deny their request to accept magic in his kingdom. He could tell Arthur felt guilty, condemning a man, a friend, to die but Merlin was stoic, he felt that if Mordred was gone it would be one less thing to protect Arthur from; one less obstacle to the creation of Albion.

He didn't realize what the Disir were actually offering. He couldn't see through the twisted vines of destiny to determine their ultimate game. At least, not until he arrived back in Camelot with Arthur and beheld Mordred, healthy and whole and very much alive.

* * *

_Greatest sorcerer ever. Wise. Great destiny. Stupid idiotic prat is more like it, _Merlin thought to himself. _I've got to find a way to make this right. I've got to save Arthur from Mordred. Whatever it takes, _he vowed.

He'd not have all that he'd worked for and sacrificed be lost forever. Albion would come about, no matter what. He'd first thought there was nothing he could do about it, nothing at all. But he knew now, that there was SOMETHING he could do, after all.

Quietly, Merlin went about his work as usual, more subdued and pale, but only Gaius noticed the change in him.

"Don't let this eat you up, boy," he warned Merlin, "Destinies and fate can be changed. If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, it's not written in stone."

Merlin simply nodded his head, but inside he was filled with a dark determination. He hated himself for constantly thinking of how to be rid of Mordred, mulling over the great dragon, Kilgharrah's, words from just a few days ago, "Sometimes, to save the tree, the ivy must be cut. You had a chance to kill the druid boy once before, if you have another, you must not fail."

So, he watched. He waited for that moment when Mordred wouldn't be on guard, that moment when Merlin could act.

It came sooner then he thought it would.

It was a typical day, the knights of Camelot out on patrol with Arthur joining them. They were scouting for some bandits that were said to be in the area, robbing poor travelers and leaving them for dead if they did not cooperate.

"Alright, men, let us wait here for the night. We can continue on in the morning. Merlin, see to the horse." Arthur dismounted and handed the reins to his man servant.

"Yes, because I'm the only one who could possibly do that," Merlin groused back.

Arthur continued pulling off his gloves and finding a spot to sit with the knights, "Oh, and make sure you get the fire going and start supper, too. We're all starving."

Merlin just rolled his eyes, muttering, "prat," under his breath and proceeded to gather fire wood, clumsily dropping it into a pile.

"Here, let me help," Gwaine offered and began tossing sticks into the pile Merlin had created. Before night had fallen the fire was glowing brightly and the stew was boiling and casting delicious aromas off into the gentle darkness.

The knights played their all too common game with Merlin.

"Can I get some more, please, Merlin?" Gwaine asked. Just as Merlin finished serving him, Percival, then Elyan, requested more as well. And so it went. Finally, exasperated, Merlin lugged the pot back and turned yet again to see they had all saved him a portion of the stew and it was in a bowl, just waiting for him to eat. Merlin grinned at his friends, until he caught the eye of Sir Mordred and his jovial mood vanished instantly, his posture stiffening up. Mordred's eyes seemed to follow him and bore into his soul, making Merlin uncomfortable with what he had decided.

Just before the dawn, in the inky blackness, Merlin awoke to sounds of rustling. As he sat up a roar filled the camp.

"Arthur!" he shouted, waking the sleeping king. The knight on duty had been caught unawares and ambushed by the bandits they had been seeking. Swords clanged and swished through the air with deadly accuracy. The band of ruffians slowly began to realize just who they had attacked.

The King was deftly shouting orders to his men and with each parry and thrust it was apparent who would win, for the Knights of Camelot were well trained and had fought in much more dire battles then this.

Suddenly, there it was, the moment Merlin had hoped for, and dreaded. Mordred was struggling against his opponent, being newly knighted. Nevertheless, he was skilled but finding the dirty tactics of the thief difficult to match. He'd been shoved hard against a large rock, the thief using his considerable girth to force him into a corner.

Merlin made his move, whispering, "Hnitan hine fortreding,"* his eyes flashed golden as the abandoned shard of a broken sword flew toward the young druid turned knight.

In that moment several things happened at once. Merlin felt his magic pushing the sword forward on its set trajectory while the situation before his eyes changed, as if Mordred felt what was coming. Or maybe it was just the circumstances of fighting in general, that he moved as the bandit tugged at his cloak, the knight's eyes widening in fright as the severed piece of sword embedded itself inches away from his shoulder in the boulder he was pressed against. Arthur had turned, having dispatched his thief, and stared in horror at the sight before him; the golden glow in his most trusted servant's, in his FRIEND'S, eyes.

The shard sat quivering in the rock and Merlin's face fell as he quickly thought, _Why now, Arthur? How many times have I saved your sorry royal ass with magic and you didn't see…you were unconscious or face turned away…oh gods, why now?_

The last standing ruffian by Sir Mordred had turned and fled at the display of magic. Mordred's face became a mask of hatred as he propelled himself off the boulder. Arthur pulled his sword as he roared, "Sorcerer! Traitor! How could you?" He's words echoed throughout the forest and all the knights were watching, faces hard and angry, sad and fearful, wooden and calm.

"Arthur, I can explain, just let me…you didn't see…I mean, you didn't know…" Merlin stammered, backing away from his once friends. His eyes were wide, red-rimmed, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he softly whispered, "What have I done?" as the implications of what he had done crashed down on him.

Swords raised, Arthur and his knights looked like a sea of red coming to drown him. Arthur was leading the charge toward him, sword brandished in his hand, ready to strike a deadly blow.

And so, Merlin, friend of Camelot, protector of Arthur, the great Emrys, fled from all he knew and all he cared about.

Trying as they might, the knights could not follow the sorcerer through the forest. They did not know that as he ran the young warlock left a trail of enchantments to hide his route through the woodlands as he ran in fear for his life and his sanity.

As he rushed through the woods he roared the words to summon Kilgharrah, "O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"** Before long the power thump of wings fanning the air could be heard as the Great Dragon landed in a nearby clearing. Merlin changed his course and ran straight to him, surprising the mighty beast as he by turns both latched on to his giant leg and pummeled it.

"No, no, no. It's wrong it's all wrong." Merlin screamed, "This was NEVER how it was supposed to turn out."

"Calm yourself, Merlin. Tell me what has distressed you so?"

"Arthur…he knows…my magic" Merlin sobbed again, "it's all your fault. I tried to get rid of Mordred, like you said. But, he saw! And now he'll never accept magic. He never sees when I do good, but when I do something that I really didn't believe in…I was just so obsessed. What will happen now? Merlin rattled off as Kilgharrah's stern face slowly dawned in comprehension.

"Do not fear, young warlock. This course is in motion but it may yet prove useful. You are alive and safe, as is Arthur. Your destiny may yet entwine."

Merlin raised his arm and wiped his tears away on his sleeve and took a shuddering breath.

"You can't possible think that Arthur would change his mind? And how am I supposed to protect him from his enemies? The clot-pole can barely survive when I'm around, let alone with me gone and his mortal enemy there in Camelot!"

"I think, for now, it is wise to stay away from Camelot. Sometimes the best way to help someone is to leave. I forgot that your greatest strength lies in your love, perhaps the course with Mordred should have been formed differently. He thought for a moment, "Merlin," Kilgharrah said, and Merlin looked up with a tear stained face, "come with me. I think it is time we opened a new door."

Puzzled, Merlin just nodded slowly. Kilgharrah gently took Merlin in his clawed foot and took off into the night for his mountain home.

Meanwhile, the knights and King Arthur were scouring the forest and surrounding areas. Arthur fumed and stubbornly refused to give up.

"Don't you think it wise, Sire, to give the men a rest?" asked Sir Leon.

"No, I bloody well don't think it's a good idea. I think it's a damn fine time to hunt down the man who's been with me for years…YEARS, who just betrayed his KING!"

"Now, wait just a minute, your royal princessness," Gwaine retorted, "We don't know what exactly just happened here. "

"Oh, really? Merlin didn't just try to hack up a knight before my very eyes?"

Gwaine faltered at that a bit, but then his resolve grew, "We don't know WHAT we saw, Arthur. You just said so yourself, Merlin's been with you for years."

"Ahhhhhh," moaned Arthur, "which makes his betrayal even greater! He's lied and kept hidden that which is punishable by death!"

"Well, Sire, then don't you think that maybe he was protecting you? Protecting us?"

Just then Sir Mordred spoke up, "If he's been practicing magic then he has broken the law. Once more, he tried to kill me! You cannot let this stand, my lord." Mordred's eyes darkened with his lust for revenge. His heart hardened against Merlin. He thought knew what was going on, that Merlin recalled his desire for vengeance against him for Merlin's betrayal, although he didn't understand why the sorcerer had attempted to kill him at this time. Mordered's hidden hatred for what Merlin had done to him in the past rose to a head once more.

Arthur looked at Mordred and nodded slightly, "Yes, when Merlin is found he must answer for his crimes." Then, gazing at the bedraggled state of his men, some of the fire left his eyes and the king sighed, "On to Camelot, though, for we need rest and our supplies are low. We can begin our search anew and with more men."

Over the next few weeks the search continued for the young sorcerer, but no trace of him was found.

In the mountains far beyond Camelot, Merlin had taken refuge with the dragon, though he still was felt resentment toward him. Kilgharrah seemed not to notice, or at least, he refused to acknowledge Merlin's bitterness.

"Merlin, I think it is time that you embrace your full destiny. You cannot dwell on the past."

"What is there left of my destiny if Arthur will not listen to me and does not trust me? I feel like all hope is gone."

"You have a powerful destiny of your own to pursue, Emrys. Do not take that lightly. There is much I can teach you. You were born with magic and so magic is your nature, your element. Can you not feel it in the very rocks? The trees, insects, the air itself?"

Merlin nodded, thinking how not that long ago, or a lifetime ago, he wasn't sure anymore, he'd said something similar to Arthur. Marveled at the wonders around them in front of the Disir's cave and asked Arthur if he could feel it, could tell the place was sacred from the very life of it all. Of course, he had not and it had hurt Merlin a bit to see the look of disregard on Arthur's face at the time.

"You are powerful, Merlin, and this is where much of it comes from. Nature itself answers to you. Reach out with your heart and mind."

Feeling slightly foolish and more than a bit perturbed, Merlin closed his eyes and focused on the world around him. "This is pointless."

"Concentrate," urged the Great Dragon and Merlin tried once more. Suddenly, and much to his surprise, Merlin could feel around him as part of himself. Tentatively, he sought the water in the river beside the mountain cave he stood in. It was cool and refreshing magic, deep and laughing, and he smiled slightly as the water rose up from the riverbed to meet him in his mind's eye and when he opened his eyes, which glowed brilliantly, it was there, bending in a new route, an impossible route, in midair!

"This, this is amazing!" he exclaimed with joy as his very thoughts twisted and shaped the flowing waters. Carefully, Merlin released the magic that held the water in his sway and it gently ebbed back to the riverbed and continued on its original course.

"Now, you see how you can be apart and still guide Arthur and achieve Albion." Kilgharrah spoke solemnly. For the first time in a long time, Merlin truly smiled and felt that there was hope left in the world.

In the once bright streets of Camelot, a darkness had settled over the land. With the loss of Merlin the castle seemed to lose some of its joy and Arthur paced the halls with a frown on his forehead.

"Arthur, my love, I know what troubles you, but you must move past this. Merlin is gone and you cannot change that, you will not have peace if you do not let this rest," Gwen reached out to her distressed husband and embraced him.

"I know, Guinevere, it's just that I cannot understand why so many around me betray me." Arthur's face fell in sorrow as he thought of all those he'd thought he could trust that had ended up letting him down or even attempting to take his life.

"You know, Arthur, you must remove the price on Merlin's head. Maybe, just maybe, if he was not fearful of coming to Camelot he could speak with you, explain himself. I just cannot find it in my heart to believe him evil."

Arthur pulled away from Gwen, seemingly conflicted in his feelings. On one hand he'd trusted Merlin with is life for years. But on the other the man had obviously been practicing magic and though Arthur had been starting to come around to the idea that it was more of a tool and not evil in and of itself, he still saw it as corrupt and tainting those who used it…until he pictured Merlin's face and saw his genial expression and heroic acts while fighting side by side. He just couldn't reconcile the two concepts. At least, not yet.

"You're right, Gwen. At least, I must try to quiet my search for him, it is taxing the kingdom's resources. Also, I would question him as to where his loyalties lie and I fear pursuit may lessen rather than increase my chances of this now. But death or banishment may yet await him; still, I would have him answer to me." Arthur kissed Gwen sweetly and strode off to the round table to meet with his knights to discuss the change in tactics regarding Merlin.

Mordred listened and was attentive to the king, but his heart was blackened in his rage against the man who had betrayed him not once, but twice in his lifetime. He would find a way to get back at Merlin, he would just have to wait and bide his time. There would come a day, sooner or later. For now, being by Arthur was his best chance at finding the warlock, for he knew Merlin would be drawn to seek out his king and aid him.

Time passed swiftly in Camelot and outside its gates. Merlin's knowledge, wisdom, and strength in magic grew under the tutelage of the Great Dragon and the very earth itself seemed to want him to become what the druids had foreseen - Emrys, creature of magic. Mother nature herself seemed to tell him the incantations to use and Merlin went from channeling water to the other elements as well: earth, fire, and air, and then to the creatures on land, sea, and sky. Reading all the signs around him became his specialty and he knew his time for learning was coming to an end. Everything around him spoke of what was to come and the great destiny that he and Arthur must come into.

"Well done, Merlin. You have learned much in a short amount of time," Kilgharrah said, who was skilled himself at seeing the paths of fate and knew very well the trials that lay ahead for the man who stood beside him. Merlin smiled happily up at the dragon and sighed, "This will not be easy to bear, Kilgharrah."

"I am confident you are ready to face your greatest challenge ever."

"And what of Arthur? Do you think he is ready? For now I see through a glass, darkly, and cannot divine if he will welcome me with open arms?"

Both creatures of magic stood in silence, contemplating the one question they did not have an answer to.

In Camelot, time had been favorable to its people. King Arthur's wrath against magic had abated somewhat, though he still was greatly troubled by the betrayal of his manservant; he had discovered during this time apart some good in the world due to magic. On patrol, the knights and king had stumbled upon an old woman caring for her garden with magic and Arthur had turned a blind eye. Another occasion found Arthur injured while hunting and, while the king was unconscious, Sir Elyan and Gwaine had taken it upon themselves to contact the local physician, who also happened to be a practitioner of magic and, by his subtle craft as well as skill with non-magical remedies, he had quickly healed the king. Arthur was angered at first, but quickly realized the kindness of the healer and the well-meaning intent of his knights. These incidences, and other, smaller acts, had healed the king of his hatred of magic, though distrust still lingered.

For Sir Mordred, however, there could be no absolution for Merlin, the man he had once thought was Emrys. His mind determined that one so corrupted could not be the real Emrys. He told himself that he needed to get back at him, and he looked to the king and saw what could bring Merlin back, what would cause him to return to Camelot. Merlin had always cared for Arthur, put him above all other things, including his own magic. So, it stood to reason that if something were to happen to Arthur, Merlin would come running.

Suddenly, the bells rang out throughout the dark walls of Camelot. Mordred barely registered the sound.

In the castle, a knight ran into the king's chambers, breathless and with fear in his eyes.

"My lord, your sister, she is marching to attack one of the outlying holds of your kingdom. She will not be long in laying waste to it!"

"Thank you, sir, go, gather the knights, we will ride at once," Arthur looks to Gwen and she ran to his arms.

"Be careful, Arthur. I'm worried about you."

"Guinevere, don't worry, I'll be fine. We've faced Morgana in the past and won, she's not even attacking Camelot directly."

Gwen turns away and whispers to herself, "You've always had Merlin in the past when you faced her," but Arthur hears and winces at the mention of Merlin and the fact that Gwen is right, Morgana has not troubled the kingdom for some months and whatever devilry she was now up to, he wouldn't have a secret sorcerer backing him up, if that was, in fact, what Merlin had done in the past. He still was unsure on his feelings regarding him but he did know that he missed his friend terribly.

Arthur quickly leaves the room and gathers with his knights in the courtyard. A servant, nameless, faceless, not Merlin, hands Arthur the reigns and he shakes his head again, surprised at his nostalgia over his missing servant…his missing friend.

"We will ride until we get to the village tonight, men. We should get there in a few hours' time. Then we can determine what our plan of defense will be against Morgana and her men."

The king wheeled his horse around and spurred it onward into the night.

The men of Camelot arrived in the village of Camlann just as the sun was breaking the horizon and casting its light over the land. Handing their horses off to a stable hand, they quickly gathered with the able-bodied men of the village to access what was happening.

"My lord," a man dressed in a simple tunic bowed low before the king then raised himself up, "welcome. I am Gerald, leader of this small village. We are in great need of you and your men. Morgana is claiming this land as her own because it holds magic of some kind, though I've never seen anything of the sort. Here, look," he pointed to a hand drawn map of the area. "She and her men are here and here," he pointed to the south and west of the village's corners.

Arthur surveyed the map and then divided his men up, along with the assorted men willing and able to fight for their village. Within a short amount of time both sides stood facing each other, Arthur leading his men and speaking words of encouragement.

"Today, men, we fight for our lands. We fight against oppression and the use of black magic. For Camelot." The sea of men roared "FOR CAMELOT," and surged forward to the witch, Morgana's, band of fighters, magic and non-magic alike. For her part, Morgana did not rouse her men with words, but sat silent in the back of the group, waiting for Arthur's charge. She smirked as her brother's forces surged into the mix with her own men, whom she had ordered to attack simply by shouting, "Forward!" In fact, most of the combatants were not loyal to Morgana at all, but rather held under her magical sway. She had hoped her overly heroic brother would attempt to save the village, but she did not attack with that sole purpose. She sought a precious gem that, with the right incantations, would hopefully reveal who Emrys, her destiny and her doom, really was.

Quietly, on the sidelines of the battle, Merlin approached, surveying the scene in front of him. He had journeyed a long ways from his cavern sanctuary, guided by the vision that Arthur's destiny would either be destroyed or fulfilled this day, as would his own.

Morgana caught sight of Merlin and smirked, "I see the prodigal servant has returned. Using magic, were you Merlin? Maybe you'd care to join me now, although I do not think your pitiful party tricks will be very useful to me today. Still, you were my friend once, surely you must long for revenge against my wretched brother for his reaction to your magic? Come, I can forgive you for your actions toward me in the past, we are brothers in magical arms."

"I am NOTHING like you, Morgana," Merlin spoke with a calm but deadly authority. His eyes softened, as he remembered the woman she had once been, and asked, "What happened to you, Morgana? You were so kind, once."

"Uther and Arthur are what happened to me!" she shrieked, "They took everything from me, denied me my rightful place and would have killed me because of magic. I should be queen of Camelot, not Arthur's vile whore!"

Merlin looked with pity on the witch, who glowered at him, saying, "If you will not join me then you are no use to me."

Morgana raised her hand, eyes flashing brilliantly golden as a strong, silent force pushed its way toward Merlin. It reached him, but, instead of forcing him to the ground the magic broke as if against an invisible barrier and splashed around Merlin, casing him no harm. Her eyes widened at this, as it was some of her strongest magic to quickly dispatch those she found troublesome.

"Appearances, you see, can be deceiving, witch," Merlin quickly raised and lowered a glamour, revealing to her the old man guise he used as Emrys.

"YOU!" she screamed, insane with rage and horror, "But you were just a servant! YOU CANNOT BE EMRYS!" Morgana hysterically cried as she gathered all the power in her arsenal of dark magic and hurled a sword from the hands of one of her fighting men at Merlin, which, eyes flashing, he stopped inches from his chest and looked at for a moment as it hung in midair and then dropped with a dull thud to the ground.

"You cannot win, Morgana. You wish for magic to return to Camelot, yet you constantly attack its citizens with magic. Until you can remove the hatred from your heart, you will not find peace."

Once more Merlin's eyes turned golden, causing the earth itself to shake under her feet, forcing the witch to lose her footing and tumble to the ground.

Meanwhile, the battle raged on in front of the two clashing sorcerers. Although Morgana's men were enchanted to fight for her, they did so without spirit or heart and so the Knights and King Arthur were quickly gaining the upper hand. Sir Mordred and Arthur fought side by side, both dispatching their enemies at the same time and glancing toward the back of the battlefield where they beheld Merlin and Morgana's fantastic displays of magic.

Arthur's face brightened at the sight of his former servant fighting against the sorceress Morgana. He could barely believe that it was Merlin there, casting the powerful witch down. The king was mesmerized as he watched the very forces of nature being hurled back and forth between the two.

Morgana called lightening down from the heavens to strike at Merlin, while Merlin simply blocked the potential blows and redirected them back to her. He had found himself finally, in those weeks with the dragon and remembered his nature and would be true to himself. He would not attempt to cast a fatal blow again, unless absolutely necessary. Morgana was quickly draining herself of all energy and her spell work began to suffer.

Mordred saw all this at Arthur's side as well, and a powerful rage encompassed him. He saw red and glanced at the king standing next to him, appearing to have forgiven the traitor, the imposter Emrys and he acted without thinking. Mordred's sword went back, his eyes flashed gold, and at that moment it seemed that time stood still.

Merlin looked over and saw Arthur's smiling face, then the dark shadow that descended upon it caused him to shift his attention to the knight beside him, Mordred.

"Nooooooooooooo!" Merlin screamed as the deadly thrust rent through Arthur, his friend, protruding from his back. He felt as if the sword had pierced him as well as he knocked Morgana away and rushed to his king's side.

Mordred shook his head, as if coming out of a daze, and stared at Arthur, who was slowly falling to his knees, mouth opened as if to ask the question, "Why?" and in that instant Arthur saw everything that had happened in his life, things he had no right to even know of and magic's hand in his life. His question, however, was forever frozen on his lips as the light left his eyes.

Merlin caught his falling king, keeping him from crashing to the ground. Mordred held his hands out in front of him, staring at the blood that stained them a deep red, redder then his knight's cloak. Merlin's magic raged inside him and he forced Arthur's killer back, tears in his eyes he whispered in a deadly voice, "Leave. Now." Mordred looked at the king he had served and the sorcerer he hated and felt the forceful wind emanating from Merlin pushing him away.

The fighting had come to a standstill as Morgana's men were freed from her spells due to her weakened state and Arthur's men realized with horror what had happened to their king. Mordred growled his frustration at being so close to killing the warlock he despised but turned and fled, angered that Merlin had yet again betrayed him, caused him to lose control and kill someone. He followed the escaping figure of Morgana, who staggered away from the battle without much strength. He caught up with her and assisted the witch into the depths of the forest that bordered the village.

Sir Leon, Elyan, Gwaine, Percival huddled around their fallen king, too shocked to pursue the traitor knight, too full of grief to move or speak. Finally, Percival asks in an almost childlike way, "Can you save him?" and looks into Merlin's eyes. Merlin glances down at the body of Arthur, and then looks back again at the knights, then beyond. Emerging from the forest were three darkly hooded figures. They seem to glide over to the sorcerer and his fallen king.

"He is worthy now," Merlin states firmly to the Disir, the mouth pieces of the Triple Goddess, who have arrived, "His heart has changed."

They nod in agreement. "Yessss. Weee grant you the soul of the fallen king."

One of the women seers reaches into her cloak and holds in her hand a brilliantly glowing ball of yellow light. Merlin reaches out and it floats toward him.

"Twwwoo sssidesss of the ssssame coin."

Merlin nods as he takes the beautiful sphere gently in his hands and guides it to Arthur's body, using one hand to remove the sword from his ravaged chest. Merlin speaks words of the Old Religion, eyes burning brightly as he forces the orb into Arthur. The wound quickly begins to mend, closing up and leaving no trace, not even blood. Then the chainmail repaired itself, leaving no hint of the grievous injury that once was there. He breathes on the king's face and Arthur inhales deeply and opens his eyes to see Merlin and his knights. Merlin looks around and sees the Disir have departed as quickly as they had come.

"Arthur!" he exclaims joyfully, extending a hand to his friend. Seeing Merlin and magic fully now, Arthur grabs his friend's hand and is helped to his feet.

"Hail King Arthur, Once and Now Future King!" Merlin shouts and the Knights of the Round table take up the chant "Hail the Once and Future King!" and it spreads like wildfire throughout the ranks. From the lowest fighter protecting his home, to the stalwart knights of Camelot.

Arthur looks at Merlin in a new light, as an equal, and a powerful ally against the forces of dark magic, but he shakes his head, "Bumbling idiot."

"Hey, I just brought you back from the dead."

"Yes, and now that you have, you have a lot of explaining to do. You will have to tell me everything about your magic. There are going to have to be some ground rules and of course, some things need to change in Camelot. However, at least I now know you're not completely worthless in a fight."

Merlin's eyes darkened at the thought of the fights that lay ahead of them. "Albion can truly become a reality now, Arthur. Magic can be free again. But we still have Morgana to contend with and now Mordred too."

"Yes, but for now, we ride for home. Camelot is waiting." He walked among the men and yelled, "Home for Camelot." A resounding cheer met his ears and with that he found his horse and one for Merlin and together, Emrys and the Once and Future King rode into the setting sunlight for home, smiles upon their faces.

The End

* Old English: literal translation - "Strike man ruin/destruction". My meaning is to say something along the lines of "Strike that man to his ruin."

** Homeric Greek: translation – "O dragon, now indeed I utter to you commands out of necessity!"


End file.
